by Cathryn Hein
‘Spreading her venom, more like.’ He rested his hands on Jasmine’s shoulders. ‘You okay?’
The kindness in his tone, the futile hope it gave, brought on another involuntary tear bubble. Jas sniffed and nodded. ‘Why don’t we go inside and talk over a cuppa?’
He didn’t answer. Instead he gently stroked the tear away and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. Jas closed her eyes at the tenderness of the gesture. Maybe it would be okay.
Her optimism was misplaced. Releasing his grip, Digby turned to his sister. ‘Where do you get off?’
If Em was stunned before, she was even more dismayed by his question. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Can’t help yourself, can you? You always have to spoil things.’
‘I’m not trying to spoil anything. I just don’t want to see anyone hurt, you or Jas. I’ve only ever wanted to protect you, you know that.’
Jas tugged at Digby’s arm. ‘Please, don’t. Let’s go inside. We’ll talk it through.’
‘Protect me?’ scoffed Digby, ignoring Jas. ‘From what? You have no idea about me, what I think, what I feel. Nothing.’
‘I know you’re grieving for Felicity, but …’ Em stammered to silence as Digby threw his head back and shook it slowly back and forth in disbelief. She glanced at Jas, and for the first time there was no anger, only fear.
‘I don’t want your protection,’ said Digby. ‘I don’t want anything from you. You ruin everything that’s good.’
Em stared at him, speechless. Then with Wallace fortitude, she lifted her chin. ‘Believe what you like, but the honest truth is that I’ve only ever wanted to see you happy. If you’re happy with Jas, then I am too, but—’
Digby puffed a noise. ‘Always a “but” with you. What? Jas not good enough for me?’
‘She’s my best friend, Digby. Why would you think I’d say that?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. How about history? No one’s ever been good enough in your eyes. Not Cait, not Felicity, now not Jas.’
Em breathed in deeply and spoke with calm Jas could only admire her for. ‘I would love for you and Jas to work out. But you’ve both been hurt very badly.’
‘We know what we’re doing, Em,’ said Jas. ‘It’s all right.’
‘I worry.’
‘I know you do,’ Jas replied. ‘But I promise we’re okay. It’s not serious. It’s just …’ She glanced at Digby, who stared back, inscrutable. The next word left an ache in her chest but she said it anyway. ‘Comfort.’ Hurting, she avoided his gaze and concentrated on her friend. ‘It’s also private.’
‘I’m not going to tell everyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.’ Em addressed Digby. ‘I assume Josh knows?’
‘No.’
‘Oh.’ She shifted uncomfortably. ‘I’d like to discuss it with him, if that’s okay?’
‘Discuss it?’ Digby made another disparaging noise. ‘What? You think we’re children who need permission?’
‘No! I don’t know. I …’ Em bit at her top lip. ‘We’re getting married in two weeks. You’re his best man. Jas is my chief bridesmaid. How can I keep this from him?’
‘Do what you like,’ he said, waving a hand. ‘I’ve stopped caring.’
‘Dig.’ Jasmine’s voice was sad and soft. It hurt her to see Digby and Em fight, and she knew only too well how Em had suffered after Felicity’s death, even if Digby didn’t.
Digby closed his eyes as if he understood he’d gone too far. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be.’ Em’s eyes were glistening with tears and guilt. ‘I know nothing I do or say will change the way you feel about me, and you’re right—this is none of my business. I’ll leave you to it.’ Holding out the gift-wrapped box, she grimaced at Jas. ‘For you.’
‘What is it?’
‘A gift, to say thank you for last night and the bridal shower, and,’ her gaze slid towards Digby and quickly away, ‘everything else.’ When Jas made no move to accept, Em placed the box in her hands and wrapped her own over Jasmine’s. ‘Take it. Please.’
Jas nodded. ‘Everything I’ve done has been done with pleasure for a friend. I don’t need presents, but thank you.’
Em pressed her hands a little firmer and let go, and without another word walked to her car, straight-backed, head up, dark hair whipped behind on the breeze.
Digby and Jas said nothing as Em started the engine and put the car in reverse. She stared out the windscreen at them, half-lifted her hand from the wheel as if to wave and let it drop. Without another glance, she reversed out of sight, Jas watching her the entire time.
When Jas looked back at Digby he’d moved a few steps away, and stood facing the dunes. Jas placed her hand on his back and stepped around his side to look at him. Fatigue etched lines in a face made even more tired-looking by stubble and the whip of sea-spray and wind during his walk.
‘I can’t deal with her, Jas. I just can’t.’
‘Why not? You know Felicity’s death wasn’t her fault. It was a terrible, tragic accident.’
‘I know that. But seeing her with you when I topped the dunes …’ He breathed in shakily. ‘The way she was standing, the look on her face. It was like Flick all over again.’
‘I’ve known your sister almost all my life. I can handle her.’ Besides, Jas wasn’t Felicity.
‘You shouldn’t have to, not when it comes to you and me.’ He sighed and rubbed his face. ‘What a fuck-up.’
‘No, it’s not.’ Placing the box on the ground, she threaded her arms around him and locked them in the hollow of his back, looking up with a smile. No one would come out of this hurting. No one. Except maybe herself, and Jas was already resigned to that possibility. ‘Em will be fine once she gets used to the idea. Josh probably won’t care. Your grandmother already suspects and seems to approve, and your mum will be relieved you’re with a friend instead of brooding alone somewhere.’
‘What about you, Jas? How do you feel about it?’
Jas pulled him closer, reaching up on tiptoe to concentrate on his mouth so she didn’t have to keep eye contact. ‘Why don’t you come to bed with me and find out?’
Later that afternoon after Digby had gone, Jas wandered into her kitchen and picked up Em’s gift from where she’d left it on the counter. She used scissors to cut away the raffia bow. Em had a wrapping technique that was like origami and didn’t require tape, and the paper opened out into neat folds. The box was made of stiff blue cardboard, and when Jas removed the small envelope she saw the distinctive Swarovski crystal symbol on the lid. The card was handpainted in Em’s skilful style and showed two young girls holding hands as they skipped towards a pair of grazing horses: the two of them as little girls, horse-mad, carefree.
Friends.
Jasmine’s throat thickened. She swallowed it away and opened the card. The inscription was simple and heartfelt: To celebrate your new wings and say thank you. I love you, my friend. Fly long and fly bright. Em.
It took several blinks to clear the prickles from her eyes, hating that they’d argued, that their precious friendship had suffered over nothing. Jas would repair it though, no matter what it took. Curious about the wings reference and the contents of the box, Jas set the card aside, lifted the lid and carefully removed the top layer of foam packaging.
Nestled inside was an exquisitely rendered crystal butterfly, its facets flashing every shade of the rainbow.
Her new wings.
Bright, beautiful and free.
CHAPTER
18
Josh was pacing near the door to the stables when Digby pulled into Camrick. One glance revealed his mood. Mouth set, low brows, fists swinging at his sides. Digby parked in front of the garage door and alighted from the car.
Josh stood a few feet away. Muscles flexed in his arms. ‘You and I need to talk.’
‘Yeah, we do.’ Digby glanced at the big house and back at Josh. Though there was no sign of movement, he’d bet someone was watching. Granny B in the shadows of her ba
lcony, no doubt. She could sniff trouble like a shark scented blood. ‘You want to do it here or at the pub?’
‘The way I’m feeling the pub probably isn’t a good idea.’
Digby shrugged. ‘Fair enough. Come upstairs. There are beers in the fridge.’
Josh stalked him up the stairs, his work boots loud on the timber treads. Digby nearly asked what projects he’d been working on but decided against it. Josh wouldn’t care for small talk. This was a discussion that had been a long time coming. Though Josh wasn’t a pussy-footer like the rest of Digby’s family, he’d still been careful and sympathetic. Not anymore. This involved Em.
Digby pulled a couple of Crown Lagers from the fridge and cracked the tops. After handing one to Josh he took a swig from the other and leaned against the kitchen bench. If Josh wanted to turn this into a fight he could. For him, Digby would take it, although he’d rather not have to. Not with the wedding around the corner.
Josh took a mouthful and swallowed. He regarded Digby, clearly choosing his words. ‘This thing with Em has to end.’
‘Easier said than done.’
‘Why?’
‘You know why.’
Josh’s jaw tightened. ‘It wasn’t her fault.’
Digby raised an eyebrow.
‘All right. So she did something shit. You think she’s not sorry? You think it doesn’t tear her apart?’
Digby looked away. What Josh said was probably true but that didn’t change the fact of what Em had done. If she hadn’t told Flick that Digby would never forgive what she’d done to Granny B, Felicity might never have panicked and run to the quarry. He returned his gaze. ‘Maybe, but sorry doesn’t change anything, does it? Flick died thinking I didn’t love her because Em took it on herself to tell her so. No “sorry” is going to make that go away.’
‘She knows that. She carries it around every day.’ Josh tilted his bottle towards Digby. ‘But you need to forgive her. For yourself, if not for her.’
‘You been seeing that counsellor, have you? He’s big on forgiveness.’
‘For fuck’s sake, Dig. Get over it.’
‘Get over it?’ Digby slammed his beer down, the contents foaming up and spilling out the top. ‘How can I get over it? She died!’
Josh remained unmoved. ‘Yeah, she did, and it’s shit and I’m sorry for her and for you. But you lived, Dig. So did I, so did Em, and now we need to get on with it.’
As quickly as it had flared, Digby’s temper faded. No one understood, not even Josh. Yes, he wanted to get on with it. He wanted it badly. Life, love, laughter, happiness. All the things he knew existed, that he could have because Felicity taught him he could. But he wanted it all with her. His angel. His love.
And he could never have that because of his sister’s jealousy and vengeance.
‘You know what I hate the most?’ His voice cracked and he swallowed, blinking rapidly. ‘I hate that Em has this chance and I don’t. I hate that it’s going to be her walking down that aisle instead of Flick, stealing all the love and joy Flick should have had.’
Josh’s head lowered. ‘Jesus, Dig.’
‘But you know what else I hate?’
Josh looked up.
‘Myself, for feeling this way.’ He held Josh’s gaze. This was the truth, the horrible honesty that he hadn’t revealed to anyone, not even his counsellor. ‘It’s fucking killing me.’
‘So change.’
‘I’m trying.’ He reached for his beer, saw the foaming head and dumped it in the sink. He hadn’t wanted it anyway. ‘Jas is helping.’
‘Jas?’ Confusion suddenly morphed into astonishment. ‘You’re shagging Jas?’
Digby blinked. ‘Em didn’t tell you?’
‘No.’ Josh shook his head in disbelief. ‘No, she didn’t. She came home upset and when I tried to find out what happened all she’d say was that you and her had an argument.’
‘She came to see Jas at Admella Beach. I was there.’
‘Oh, yeah. The butterfly.’ At Digby’s expression he clarified. ‘Em bought Jas a crystal butterfly as thanks for everything she’d done.’
So that’s what was in the box. Em probably wished she hadn’t gone to the expense now. ‘She wasn’t impressed by the news. Had a go at Jas.’
‘Which is when you had a go back.’
‘Pretty much.’
‘Shit.’ Josh took a slug of beer, worry lining his brow. ‘Not good news for the wedding.’
‘No.’
Josh contemplated a while. ‘All right. I’ll talk to Em, you talk to Jas. Those two are more important than me and you. Em and I could get married in a registry office tomorrow and I’d be happy but this is Em’s big day. And our families’. It’s up to us to put all the other shit aside and make it right.’ He downed the last of his beer and placed the bottle on the sink. ‘I’d better go.’ He strode to the stairwell, eager to get home to Em.
‘Josh?’
He paused, one hand on the rail, and regarded Digby over his shoulder.
‘Are we good?’
‘We are, but that doesn’t let you off the hook with Em. You need to sort your problem.’
Digby was aware of that but as he’d said, easier said than done. ‘I’ll do what I can. Just don’t expect miracles.’
Josh looked as though he was going to comment further, but instead nodded. ‘All right.’ He took a couple of steps, changed his mind and backed up. ‘You and Jas, is it serious?’
‘No.’ Except the denial sounded wrong. ‘Maybe. I don’t know.’ Digby shrugged. ‘I like her. A lot. But …’
But what? So she wasn’t Felicity. No woman would be, and it was her difference he liked. So why the but?
Josh answered for him. ‘Too soon?’
‘I guess.’ Although he wasn’t certain it was that either, not entirely. Something niggled though. A little irritation in the back of his mind he couldn’t quite reach to scratch. Not about Jas, but about himself. He let it go and moved across to the stairwell. ‘Whatever it is I’d prefer to keep it between me and Jas. For now, anyway.’
‘Smart idea. Everyone has enough to worry about with the wedding, without throwing that into the mix. I’ll keep it under my hat. So will Em. Right. Gotta go. I’ll see you Friday for the spa.’ Finally he grinned, the good-humoured Josh everyone loved. ‘Should be interesting. Harry’s terrified, the big girl.’
‘We’ll have to scare him even more then.’
‘We will.’ He tapped the rail. ‘Look after yourself, Dig. I need my best man.’
When Josh had gone Digby retreated to the lounge to stand at the window with his hands in his pockets. Dusk cast stringy shadows over the gravel drive and coated the park opposite in khaki and grey. He glanced across at the house. His grandmother was standing at the corner of her upstairs balcony, tumbler in one hand, cigar in the other, blowing smoke balloons into the clean air. She raised her glass towards Digby as if in salute. He didn’t acknowledge it. The sight of her on the balcony had brought an ache to his chest.
He stepped back out of sight and plucked up Felicity’s photograph, his favourite, where she smiled out at him like a heaven-sent angel. An angel with luminous skin, white-gold hair and eyes the colour of the summer sky. A woman who should have done no wrong, yet did.
Digby closed his eyes as the vision of their final moments at Rocking Horse Hill played in his head. Em’s panicked warnings for him not to come any closer to the collapsing quarry. The smell of peat and broken plants as dirt broke away beneath him. Stretching for Flick, pleading with her to take his hand. The powerful suck of the earth. His promise to always be there for her. Em’s sobs as her grip began to falter.
Felicity’s mud and tear-stained face turning to his, calm with resignation. The whispered ‘I love you’. His own in return.
Then the terrifying realisation of what she had planned.
He couldn’t remember after that. Josh said Digby had lunged for her, even though to do so was suicide. Digby thought he recalled hi
s own roars but Josh said he couldn’t hear anything above the landslide and Em’s screams.
In his dreams Digby reached her, had her within his protective hold, only for her to be wrenched away by a force impossible to fight. Truth was he was likely unconscious after his dive and missed her all together. He hated that thought, like he hated that their last words weren’t enough, that she didn’t believe him. Yet her own love for him had remained strong against that betrayal.
Christ, he’d never forgive himself for that. How the hell was he meant to forgive Em?
Digby opened his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Flick. So sorry.’
Giving her face one last caress, he put the frame down to look out the window once more. Past the drive, over the parkland and trees, past Rocking Horse Hill, was Admella Beach and Jas. Two women who couldn’t be more different in looks and personality.
One he loved. The other … He let out a long sigh and rubbed at his hair. The niggling thought was back and this time he was certain the problem was him. A fault in his psyche preventing what he felt for Jas from developing into something more.
He didn’t love Jas, not the way he had Felicity, but she mattered. She made him forget his grief and helped him smile. She’d even helped him to feel again, what it was like to be touched, appreciated, nurtured. What it was like to protect someone. Plus he wanted her like crazy. She was playful, adventurous and sexy as all hell.
And what was Digby in return? Damaged, bitter and jealous. Too weak to do anything but dread the wedding of the man he loved like a brother and the sister he couldn’t yet forgive.
Whatever his screwed-up feelings for Jas, if he was going to make it through the next two weeks he’d need her more than ever.
CHAPTER
19
Em’s final dress fitting was a warm-hearted affair, with champagne and giggles and oohs and ahs. The Wallace women had chosen well and the German-born dressmaker—or couturier, as Granny B grandly referred to her—was not only an expert seamstress but also knew how to make a bridal party feel special.
